Ceremonials
by DunderMifflinThisIsRonnie
Summary: A wedding brings the gang back together in 1980s Point Place. New faces, and old loves, but will the friendships still remain?
1. No Light, No Light

**Nothing is mine. Chapter names are from** _ **Ceremonials**_ **, by Florence + the Machine.**

 **One: No Light, No Light**

The wet pavement glittered, _like diamonds_ , she thought, under the warm, yellow street lamps. The Volvo's tires hissed, the wiper blades slicing across the windshield in a steady metronome. Jackie's eyes watched a passing car in her side mirror; it's red taillights hazy in it's tail spray.

At Franklin and Green Bay Road she came to a stop, her hands briefly falling from the steering wheel to sit in her lap. The interior of the car was warm, but Jackie could feel the cold pressing at the windows, see the exhaust belch out a steady stream of vapor. Her nose dripped, the tip holding onto the freeze it had acquired after her last stop for fuel in Indiana. She reached for her packet of Kleenex, stifling the flow.

The Volvo's taillights lit up the hood of the car behind her, and Jackie could just make out the shapes of the people sitting in the front seats. Pulling the lapels of her coat closer, Jackie brought her eyes up, staring at the red traffic light. _Stop it_ , she told herself, _stop seeing him everywhere._

A car rolled to a stop beside her, and Jackie turned to look, almost out of instinct. She made eye contact with the girl in the passenger seat, the two sharing a small smile. The teenager turned away, snuggling closer to the driver, a boy with a mop of curly hair. He pressed his mouth to her hair, his right arm rising to wrap about her shoulders, and Jackie took a deep breath, looking away, her hands rising to grip the steering wheel again. Her heart beat a tattoo under her breast.

Her leather gloves squeaked against the leather steering wheel covering, her knuckles flexing under the soft, supple fleece lining. This had been a mistake, coming back here.

The light changed to green, and the pair of teens sped off, the Camaro fishtailing slightly in the rain. Jackie watched them go, foot firmly pressed to the brake. She felt a panic start in her breast. Too many memories, just like the scene she had just witnessed, rose to her minds eye. She had once been that teenaged girl, heart leaping in her chest, as her boyfriend peeled out, driving her off into a sunset of her own imagining.

A horn blared behind her, once, and then followed by a soft, apologetic beep, and Jackie jumped, a small cry escaping her lips. In the rearview mirror she saw the driver of the car behind her wave their hand in a Get A Move On way. She pressed on the gas, waving her hand in apology to the driver behind her. Shaking her curled hair back, Jackie chewed her lip ignoring the growing anxiety as she neared Point Place's Community Center.

The Volvo navigated the slick roads expertly, gliding into the parking lot. Her eyes roamed the assembled cars already parked, immediately searching for one she would know. She wasn't sure if she was happy or upset that she didn't recognize a single vehicle, but didn't bother to question herself for long. She had done enough of that in the weeks leading up to this trip. Parking near the front, Jackie pulled her purse closer, opening the zipper and pulling out her compact.

Swiping the cotton pad over her t-zone, Jackie's eyes caught a couple, bundled against the rain and cold pass by the bumper of her car. _Could it be-_ She couldn't make out their faces. Dropping the compact into her purse, she pulled out her lipstick, twisting the tube open and applied it to her lips, rubbing the pigment into her skin.

Capping the lipstick, Jackie sat for a moment longer in her warm car, staring blankly out the windshield. Absently, she twisted the cap of her lipstick, comforted with the repetitive motion. The last time she had been here was her college graduation party, two years prior. Resigned to the fact that she wouldn't be hosting Jackie's bridal shower anytime soon, Pam had settled for her daughter's graduation instead, inviting practically all of Point Place.

It had become a party of frivolity that reminded Jackie of the parties her mother would host to support her father in his campaign races. Popularity contests. Drunken uncle's who's touches lingered just a moment too long. Aunts with plastic faces that bemoaned their lives of leisure and steady diet of Stoli martinis and Valium.

Not that Jackie had spent much of that time worrying about her mother's popularity party. She had been too wrapped up in a new possibility, one that she had long hoped would return to her. The familiarity of his body and his mouth had left her in a euphoric state for days afterward, and desolate in the weeks that followed that.

Suddenly angry, Jackie threw the lipstick into her purse, yanking the keys from the ignition.

Rain pelted her umbrella, and Jackie slid her key into the driver's door, locking it swiftly. Her purse slung across her shoulder, Jackie hurried as quickly as her heeled boots would let her to the entrance.

She was here for Eric, nothing more. She was here to support her friend, a friend she had had since high school. Nothing else mattered. She kept up the running mantra as she entered the building, closing her umbrella and shaking water droplets onto the carpet. The building's heaters pumped warm air into the small entrance hall, and Jackie slid her jacket off her body, draping it over her arm.

"Jackie?"

Turning to the right, Jackie smiled the first genuine smile she had had in days. Her heels struck the floor hard as she ran towards him, throwing her arms around his neck, umbrella swinging madly from her wrist. His hair smelt the same; his body pressed against hers was familiar. Relief covered her anxiety for the briefest of moments. "Oh, Michael!"

Michael wrapped his arms about her waist, drawing her closer. His breath was hot on her neck. "How are you? When did you get in?"

Pulling back, Jackie smiled up at his face. She pushed a curl back behind her ear. "Uhm, just now, actually."

"So late!" Michael admonished. "Where are you staying?"

"Oh, with Donna," Jackie answered, flippantly, securing her purse on her shoulder once more. "Is she here yet?"

"Nah," Michael said, his eyes searching over the top of her head. "I'm the first one here of the old gang. Donna said she couldn't get out of the station till six, and then she had to go pick up Keith."

"You want to head in? Get a good seat?" Jackie asked, motioning towards the open doors leading into the community center.

"Yeah, I think Jon already got us a table, so we can all sit together." Michael said. He extended his arm, smirking at Jackie's giggle as she looped hers through his. "I've missed you, Jackie."

"I've missed you too. How's Chicago? And Betsy?" Jackie asked. They walked tall into the community center, acting Prom King and Queen.

"Chicago's great!" Michael said genuinly. He led her across the tiled floor towards a table on the far side of the community center. "And Betsy's wonderful. She's in third grade. And Brooke has her in ballet. She had a recital last week, and I gotta say, she's a natural. Obviously, she got it from me."

Picturing Michael's dance moves, Jackie laughed heartily. If Betsy had any of Michael's dance moves than Jackie could only imagine the number of children who had left the recital with black eyes and bruised toes.

"And Brooke?" Jackie asked. "How is she doing?"

Michael's mouth quirked, the corner rising and falling. His eyes had grown distant and closed off. "I think she's doing ok. No one was expecting her mom to go so rapidly. Cancer, y'know."

"Yeah, I heard," Jackie replied.

A dark haired man roughly their age stood from his seat as they neared the table. He smiled at Jackie, coming around the table to wrap her in a hug. She squeezed his shoulders, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Jon! So good to see you again."

"And you." Jon said, releasing her. He held her at arms length, scanning her lithe form. "You look great!"

Jackie struck a pose. "Oh, Jane Fonda."

"Who else?" Jon asked rhetorically.

They all took their seats, a waiter coming around and taking their drink order. Music softly played, a DJ set up in the corner by the restrooms. Jackie draped her coat and purse across the chair beside her, hooking the umbrella strap on the edge. The waiter set a glass of white wine before her, and Jackie grabbed at the glass, taking a small sip. Anything to help calm her nerves.

Michael and Jon kept up a steady stream of conversation, helping Jackie along when she dropped out at the arrival of any newcomers through the door. The pair of men shared a look, concern on their faces.

"I can't believe it's been two years!" Jackie exclaimed, chewing her tongue. She felt jittery with suppressed emotion and energy. "It almost feels like no time has passed at all."

"Jackie, look. There's something you should know." Michael said, leaning across Jon to bring Jackie in close.

"What?" Jackie asked distractedly. Her dark eyes pinged back to the entrance and slowly back again to Michael. She was half listening, missing the tone of his voice. If she had been fully listening she would have picked up on the change in cadence, the urgency that laced his words. If she had been listening she would have heard the warning in Michael's voice, the way Jon hummed his agreement.

"About two years ago, after your graduation party-" Michael's voice faded as he realized he no longer had Jackie's attention at all.

Steven had entered the community center, along with Eric and a pair of women. Jackie leaned away from Michael and Jon, her eyes fixed unblinking on the group. Her penetrating gaze caught Steven's attention, and he turned, immediately making eye contact. Caught, Jackie smiled and gave a peppy wave, turning back to Jon and Michael as if she hadn't been staring.

"Did I tell you two about the news station?" Jackie asked, bringing her glass of wine closer. Her heart was positively pounding, and she swallowed over the flutter it caused in her throat. The two men shared another look. Michael opened his mouth to speak again, but Jackie rushed on, her energy dispelling with her words and morphing instead into tense anticipation. She noted that her voice had risen an octave. "We're under new management. The new owner is _very_ impressed with me and my work, says he's never met another investigative journalist who can present gory details in such a bright light."

"Hey." Steven's voice broke in.

Jackie pretended she hadn't quite heard, sipping her wine, a hand rising to curl a lock of hair about her pointer finger.

"Hey!" Michael said, his voice unsure. He and Jon stood, and they all shook hands. Michael glanced down at Jackie and then back up to Steven. "How ya been, man?"

"I've been great, yeah," Steven said. He looked down at Jackie. His voice lowered an octave, not that the others, besides Jackie, noticed. "Hey, Jackie."

"Steven!" Jackie said. She turned slightly in her seat, elbow resting on the table. Her left hand touched her neck and she smiled demurely. "It's been a while."

"Yeah." Steven said simply. They stared for a moment longer at one another. He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. "This is Heather."

Jackie's eyes slid to the right, settling on the blonde woman at Steven's side. She scanned the other woman, stopping on Steven's hand hung low on Heather's hip. The same way he used to hold her. Heather smiled at Jackie, offering a hand. "Hi, Jackie, it's nice to finally meet you."

"Yes, you too," Jackie said, with false bravado, trying to remember when any of her friends had told her Steven was seeing someone. She took Heather's hand, noting the soft skin. Briefly, Jackie looked to Michael, questioning this newcomer.

"May I?" Heather asked, pointing to the chair beside Jackie where her coat and purse sat.

"Oh." Jackie said, staring stupidly at her possessions. She reached forward in a haze, lifting them off the seat of the chair and into her lap. "Uhm, sure."

Steven opened his mouth to say something, but Heather had already extradited herself from his grasp and sat with a soft sigh beside Jackie. She ordered a white wine from the waiter, sliding her jacket down her arms and across the back of her chair.

Jackie sat frozen a second longer, then copied Heather's movements, draping her coat and purse over the back of her own chair. She took a sip of wine. Jon and Michael were watching her closely. The DJ began to play The Cars. Jackie laughed sharply. She touched the hollow of her throat, blinking as if something were caught in her eye. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"You were telling us about your job." Jon supplied. He drained his whiskey, holding the glass up to signal the waiter for a refill.

"Right." Jackie said. She grew quiet. She felt the skin at the hollow of her neck tingle as she pinched herself.

Steven took a seat at the table on Heather's right. He kept his coat on, his neck disappearing into the wool collar, his body seemingly withering under Kelso's accusatory glare.

"So, Jackie," Heather started, her voice congenial. "Steven tells me you live in Florida? And you're on TV? How exciting!"

"Yeah, yeah, it is." Jackie said. She adopted her peppy cheerleader voice. "And I'm right by the beach, so it's basically a vacation every day."

"No wonder you have such a perfect tan in November!" Heather exclaimed. Jackie nearly flinched at Heather's touch, a soft fingertip trailing down her bicep, as if they were old friends. "I wish I had a job as exciting as yours. I teach kindergarten at Old Main."

"Old Main?" Jackie asked, her eyes narrowing. "Old Main was burned down, like, twenty years ago."

"Oh, they've rebuilt it." Heather explained. "They bulldozed the old building that was there, and built over its foundation."

"Mm." Jackie hummed, looking across Heather at Steven. His blue eyes skirted away. "Kindergarten? That sounds like hard work. I don't know that I could handle that many children for a full day."

"The kids are wonderful at that age, very curious about everything," Heather said. She finger combed a lock of her blonde hair. "It's great to experience that. Of course, I told Steven that when _we_ have children, he'd have to handle them till they're about five or six." Heather laughed kindly, her hand falling from her hair to land on Steven's upper arm. He gave her a warm look, and turned away, silent. "I'm an only child, and I don't have much experience with babies. But Steven, he's amazing with children."

Jackie drained the last of her wine glass. It burned acidly down her throat and into her empty belly. "Are you expecting?"

Michael coughed on his whiskey. Jon pounded on his back.

Heather's smile froze as she pondered Jackie's question. "Expecting?"

Jackie's eyebrows rose. The tops of Steven's ears were bright red.

"Oh!" Heather exclaimed. She laughed heartily. "No, not yet." She brought up her left hand, exposing a large solitaire on her ring finger. "But we are engaged."

The diamond glittered teasingly at her. The anxious butterflies that had settled in her stomach since crossing into Point Place had finally stopped their fluttering. A slab of concrete had squashed them into a juicy pulp. Jackie could feel the eyes of the four other occupants at the table on her and she forced a smile to rise on her mouth. Grasping Heather's soft fingers, Jackie admired the ring, a gold band, and the flawless marquis shaped diamond that goaded her from it's cathedral setting.

"Congratulations!" Jackie exclaimed, convincing even herself, that she meant it. "How wonderful for you both!"

Heather beamed. "Thank you! It's still very new." She brought her hand before her face, admiring her ring. Steven stared at it from his spot like something he had never seen before. "Steven only just proposed on our two year anniversary last week."

"I'm sorry. I think I heard you wrong. What did you say?" Jackie asked, flabbergasted.

"Eric!" Kelso belted. He stood from the table, abandoning the rest of them. "Oh, thank god. Eric! Over here!"

Jackie was saved from further conversation. Eric and his fiancé, Nancy, had finally arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Forman behind them. Pushing back her chair, Jackie muttered an Excuse Me to the others, forcing herself to calmly walk across the community hall towards the newcomers.

 _Two-year anniversary?_ Jackie asked herself, blind rage and jealousy white hot under her skin.

"Jackie!" Mrs. Forman exclaimed, drawing Jackie into a hug. The older woman held her close, nearly bouncing with excitement. "Oh, dear, it's so good to see you! You're so tan!" Mrs. Forman ended their hug, her hands gripping Jackie's waist. "And skinny. Are you not eating enough? You simply have to come for dinner while you're in town! We'll get some meat on these bones."

After assuring Mrs. Forman that she was indeed eating, and yes, would love to come to dinner, Jackie greeted Mr. Forman, forcing a hug upon him despite his best efforts to evade her grasp. Eric accepted her hug with grace, nothing souring his mood on this night, the night before his wedding.

"Jackie," Eric greeted, "you remember Nancy?"

"Of course!" Jackie said. She smiled conspiratorially. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Not at all." Nancy said, pressing a kiss to Eric's cheek. He blushed, but the look he gave Nancy, so full of love and adoration, made Jackie sad and a bit jealous of their closeness. She pressed a hand to her belly, watching these two, so obviously in love, make goo-goo eyes at one another, ignoring the pair of eyes she could feel on her back across the room. Betrayal. That's what it was she was feeling right this moment. Betrayal, and anger, and jealousy, all mixed up into one.

Nancy turned back to Jackie. "I'm really glad you were able to come up. How was the drive?"

"You drove?" Mr. Forman asked. "From Florida? Are you crazy? Do you realize how many lunatics there are on the road?"

"I was very careful, Mr. Forman." Jackie said, feeling slightly warmed by his concern. The jealousy that threatened to take over and suffocate her abated at his words.

Mr. Forman harrumphed, moving off into the community center.

"Come on," Michael said. "We got a table over here."

"Oh, we should probably go say hello to Nancy's parents first." Eric said. "Then we'll be over."

Jackie and Michael made their way back to the table. Heather was nuzzling Steven's neck when Jackie sat, but stopped once the others reappeared. Her blonde hair shone under the dimmed lights, almost as much as the diamond on her finger. Jon had ordered more drinks for them and he shot Jackie a look a concern that she didn't want, nor need.

The waiter was bringing around a tray of salads. A basket of bread had been set in the middle of the table, dishes of butter set evenly spaced between those seated.

"Pepper?" The waiter asked Jackie, producing a massive pepper mill and holding it over her plate.

"Yes, please." Jackie said, holding up her fingers to signal him 'when'.

Eric and Nancy soon joined them, and the conversation turned to their nuptials in the morning. Jackie was thankful she didn't have to contribute much, spearing lettuce onto her fork. Donna and her boyfriend Keith arrived before the main course, both of them apologizing for their tardiness.

"Things are just so hectic at the station right now." Donna said, taking a seat between Kelso and Keith. Keith helped her out of her coat, mumbling his agreement. She wore a low-cut dress, her hair, once again red, wound into a smooth French twist.

Michael brought the conversation once again to the events of tomorrow. Jackie placed her fingers on the base of her glass, swirling her wine around and around.

Jackie peered around the community center, at all the people she had known for years, if not her whole life, and felt disconnected. She had become a voyeur into this life, and she wasn't sure she wanted a pass to it anymore. Everything was the same, and yet, now, everything was different. She was the only one who had left, the only one who had moved on.

Only she hadn't. Moved on, that is. This trip was testament to that.

Florida had beckoned and her body had flown, desperate to escape. But her heart, her stupid, stupid heart had stayed behind. She'd had the opportunity to stay in Wisconsin, to report for a prominent station in Milwaukee. She'd ruined that chance though. She'd ruined many chances, she thought, bringing her glass to her mouth. Her pink lipstick rimmed the glass, leaving behind a perfect imprint of her skin.

He'd asked her to stay, on that night, two years ago, here in this very hall. He had kissed her mouth raw, thumbs sweeping the crests of her cheeks, and asked her to stay. Begged her even, using every tactic he thought would work.

All she had had to do was say yes. But she hadn't said anything. She had thought he would come after her; beg her to return, or maybe stay with her in Florida. But he hadn't done that. He hadn't done anything. He'd let her go. And now she knew why.

Jackie was brought out of her reverie by Donna. The tall redhead had come around the table, bending low over Jon's shoulder and whispering in his ear. Jon stood, taking his whiskey with him, and Donna sat in his place, smiling at Jackie.

"Hey, how are you?" Donna breathed. Her smile was easy across her mouth, but Jackie noticed the twitch at the corners of her lips. Donna's blue eyes held a secret, and she gave Jackie the same look of concern that Jon had given her when Heather had announced her engagement to Steven. Blind anger welled in Jackie's belly, and she rolled her eyes, unable to stifle the motion.

"I'm great, Donna." Jackie said. She sighed, shaking her hair back. "I'm loving life, actually, thanks for asking."

Donna looked disbelieving, but she didn't argue. "That's wonderful. How's work? Did the station manager end up selling?"

Jackie filled Donna in on her life, dropping back into an existence she hadn't lived in years. If she were to close her eyes, she could imagine she was back in Donna's blue childhood bedroom, the two gossiping over the day's events, or what their boyfriends had been up to. Back when they were best friends and shared every aspect of their day-to-day lives.

But this… This was just a shallow version of what their friendship had been all those years ago. Jackie felt a sudden urge to cry rise up her throat, heat prickling at her eyes. She cut herself off, swallowing a sip of wine. Donna noticed the change, her eyebrows furrowing with worry.

"I'm just going to go to the ladies." Jackie said, standing suddenly. She knocked elbows with Heather, spilling the blonde's wine all over her lap. Heather leapt up from her seat, a cry falling from her lips. Jackie gave Heather her napkin. "I'm so sorry! Oh, my god, what a klutz."

Heather took the napkin, blotting her dress. She smiled softly and genuinely. "No, it's ok, it was just an accident."

Jackie looked around for the waiter. Tears threatened to spill over her lashes. "I'll get you some club soda."

"No, really." Heather said, sweeping the napkin over the fabric. "I'll just go rinse it in the bathroom."

"I'll go with you," Jackie heard herself saying. She hooked her arm through Heather's, leading them across the hall towards the ladies room. Palming open the door, Jackie took the napkin clutched in Heather's hand and wet it at the sink. Her mouth kept formulating and spitting out words. "I really am, sorry that is."

Heather waved away her apology, taking the napkin again from Jackie. "It's really nothing. I'm not upset. Accidents happen."

That's how she does it, Jackie thought, frowning and looking at Heather under the fluorescent lighting. That's how she handles all those kids. She was a genuinely kind person. Heather was pretty enough, Jackie observed. She had clear blue eyes set in a heart shaped face and full lips. She was a couple inches taller than Jackie, and had fuller breasts than Jackie would ever own, except in the event she were to pack on weight or pay to have them surgically altered. But the full bosom that peaked over the neck of Heather's dress moved like natural breasts and Jackie averted her gaze before Heather noticed.

"Are you ok?"

Jackie's head sprang up. "What?"

Heather shrugged. "I know we just met, but I'm a fairly good judge of character. You seem upset."

Jackie's mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"I'm sorry, it's none of my business." Heather laughed softly, her fingers wringing the napkin over the sink. "Steven says that I'm too nosy. I've been trying to work on it."

Jackie eyed the other girl. "I'm fine. It's just been a long drive from Sarasota."

Heather nodded in understanding. "Did you only just get into town?"

Jackie nodded. She could feel the bite of her anguish at the back of her throat. She didn't trust herself to speak. The glaring lights burned her eyes and she blinked rapidly, turning away towards the wall of stalls. "I'm sorry, I really need to go."

"I'll meet you back at the table." Heather said, her heels echoing off the tiled walls as she left the room.

Closing the door and pulling the lock behind her, Jackie leaned back against the wall of the stall, her tears finally beginning to fall. She knew she shouldn't have come back here. She should have stayed in Sarasota, in her duplex, with her cat, Dynasty, and crazy next-door neighbor, Gloria. Mark Harris, her fellow anchor, had wanted to go on a date, but she had turned him down, and now she didn't know why. For this? This feeling of inadequacy and loneliness?

Crying in earnest, Jackie let her head fall back against the stall. She cried till she was spent, and exhausted with the effort. Her chin quivered and her hands shook. Her palms swept under her eyes, drawing away her tears and streaks of mascara. She took short, stuttering breaths, embarrassed with herself.

How long had she been in here? Taking several deep breaths, Jackie unlocked the bathroom stall, exiting towards the sinks. She stared at her expression and ruined makeup, cursing she hadn't thought to bring her purse with her.

The bathroom door swung open and Jackie looked up, meeting Donna's eyes. Holding up Jackie's purse, Donna said, "I thought you might need this."

"Thanks." Jackie said, taking the bag from Donna's grasp. She undid the zipper, pulling out her small makeup bag. She dipped her finger in her foundation, touching up under her eyes.

"So it's true then?" Donna asked softly, leaning her hip against the counter. "What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" Jackie asked, swapping her foundation for her powder compact. "I'm highly stressed at the moment, I just needed a good cry to help alleviate the tension."

"Uh huh." Donna said. She turned around, smoothing a few flyaway hairs back into her twisted hair. "Y'know, she's not a bad person."

"Who?" Jackie asked, playing dumb. She reapplied her mascara, sparing a glance at Donna.

"Heather." Donna said. They made eye contact in the mirror. Another girl from another life, hung suspended between them. Jackie felt her face morph from its look of practiced indifference to cold betrayal. "Look," Donna started, "I know what I did when Samantha was here, but this is different, Jackie."

"Ok?" Jackie said, acting like she wasn't affected. Her mascara pinged slightly too hard back into her makeup bag, belying her response. "I'm totally over that. Have been over that for years."

Donna chewed on her lower lip. "They're serving the main course."

"Excellent." Jackie said, dropping her tube of gloss back into her makeup bag and stuffing that into her purse. She fluffed her hair and pursed her mouth, placing her bag under her arm. Pivoting on her heel, she left Donna at the counter. "I'm starving."

Jon spun her expertly in his arms, his hand on the small of her back. His fingers alternated their pressure, telling her where to go. They controlled the dance floor, maneuvering their way around the other dancers. They waltzed like professionals, bringing the attention of the others on the dance floor. Probably because they were waltzing to Foreigner's I've Been Waiting For A Girl Like You. Jackie didn't care. She'd had enough wine to not care about anything. Neither spoke as Jon held her close to him. Jackie could feel the questions he had pulsing from his hands into her body. He didn't voice them though, and she didn't invite conversation. She just wanted to dance. Dancing was something she was good at.

Jon dipped her low, his hand supporting her weight, as the song came to a close. Jackie smiled, thanking him. He returned her smile, squeezing her hand.

"May I?"

Jackie turned to Michael, accepting his hand. The new song was faster, and Michael danced exuberantly, his feet dangerously close to Jackie's toes. She laughed in delight and let him spin her around and around.

Pulling her close, Michael yelled over the music into her ear, "Remember that disco we went to in Kenosha?"

"Yes!" Jackie exclaimed.

"You didn't dance with me that night!" Michael said, pouting. "You owe me!"

Michael spun her away, drawing her back to his chest. They cleared the floor around them with their movements. The music pounded in Jackie's body, echoing her heartbeat. Sweat gathered on the back of her neck, her hair sticking to her skin. She panted with effort, loving every second that brought her reprieve from her thoughts.

Wine drunk, Jackie danced like no one was watching. She danced like she danced when she was alone, in her duplex, after a particularly grating day at work. She put all her emotion and frustration into her movements and Michael helped, spinning and twirling her like he had done when they were younger, dancing together at prom. He had always been good at helping her forget her problems. When they were younger it was because he didn't want to hear her talk for hours of her frustrations, he had only wanted to have fun. Now it was because he knew she needed this, knew her better than she gave him credit for.

Ever since her departure from the ladies restroom, Jackie had felt Steven's eyes on her. As they ate the main course of chicken piccata, she had ignored him with the tact of a woman unaffected. She was immovable. She was a TV personality and a woman who didn't need the attention of her high school boyfriend. Through the toasts by the wedding party and parents, and desert of tiramisu, she had ignored him, but with less success, meeting his eye more frequently. And every time she had smiled as though she were acknowledging a fan, distant and impassive.

Resigned, she had ordered more wine. She would enjoy her evening. He wouldn't take that from her too. He had already taken enough from her. She had laughed along with the others at the appropriate times as the speeches were made, and had squealed in delight when the DJ began to play music for them all to dance to.

The song melded into the next and Jackie waved one hand before her face, the other lifting her tangled curls off the nape of her neck. She leaned close to Michael. "I need air! I'm going to go outside to cool off a bit."

Michael nodded, dancing off towards Jon and Donna. The two opened up their dance, allowing Michael to join. Jackie turned the other way, weaving across the dance floor towards the double doors. She stepped out into the entrance hall, sweat beading on her brow. Continuing across the carpeted entrance hall, Jackie pushed the heavy doors open, nearly groaning with pleasure as cold air washed over her face and body.

Her slick skin steamed in the sudden change in temperature and Jackie shivered. She felt her nipples harden in the cool wind. The rain had finally stopped leaving behind a crisp, clean scent. Her Volvo sparkled at her from across the parking lot and Jackie stepped to the right of the doors, over to where a line of benches were set into the community centers wall.

Taking gulping breaths, Jackie sat on one of the benches, her ankles crossing under her. Her breath crystalized before her, and her skin soon was dry and sticky from her sweat. Gooseflesh had erupted up and down her bare arms and legs. She closed her eyes, upturning her face to the night sky.

"Here."

Jackie's eyes popped open and she sprang up from the bench.

"Sorry," Steven said, taking a step back. He searched her face for a moment. Again his arm rose, offering her her coat. "I wanted to bring you this. It's cold."

"Yes." Jackie said. She took her coat, wrapping it around her shoulders. She dropped to the bench again, sitting square in the middle and leaving no room for a guest. "Thanks."

"Yeah." Steven said. And then he stood there, as if waiting for something. Steven pushed his hands deep into his pockets, his feet widening their stance.

Jackie could feel herself growing annoyed, and she turned a burning glare onto her ex. The acid that dripped from her tongue blistered her own mouth. "What?"

Steven was already watching her cautiously, expecting her irate burst. He didn't react to her bitter words. He licked his lips, eyes searching hers. "We need to talk."

Her shoulders rising to her ears, Jackie pursed her mouth. "I don't agree."

Clearly not expecting that answer, Steven paused. One hand left his coat pocket, rubbing at the corners of his mouth. His fingers pinched his lower lip, and he cleared his throat, making a decision. "It doesn't matter if you agree, we need to talk. And you know it, Jackie."

Jackie scoffed. Where had this Steven come from? Assertive had never been his strong suit, at least not when it came to conversation. How many times had she spent crying and in agony over a stupid argument that had long gotten out of hand simply because he had refused to talk to her? How many nights had she wasted wishing she hadn't said what she had said, or said more?

"Y'know." Jackie stood from the bench, taking one step out. She could still hear the bitterness in her words. Her hands rose to hold her coat to her body. "We spent the majority of our relationship _not talking_. Now that we are no longer in one, nor have been in one for some time, I think we'll survive _not talking_."

"I need to explain."

"You don't need to explain anything."

"Yes, I do. And so do you."

Jackie sneered, stepping around Steven. "Leave me alone, Steven. It's what you're good at."

Steven reached out, gripping her upper arm. His fingers squeezed her arm tight and Jackie cried out. He loosened his hold, but didn't release her. "Stop it. You owe me this."

"Geez, does everyone in this town think I owe them something?" Jackie asked rhetorically. "You. Michael."

"Kelso? What do you owe Kelso?" Steven asked.

"What do you care?" Jackie spat back, jerking her arm away.

That familiar glance of insecurity at the mention of her and Kelso flitted across his gaze, disappearing as quickly as it came. If Jackie hadn't known him as well as she did, known his signs and tells, she too would have missed it. But she knew him better than she had ever known anyone else in her entire life. At least, she had. This person standing in front of her was different too. The same, and yet different.

"Jackie, please." Steven beseeched her. "We need to talk."

"I didn't come here for this, Steven." Jackie started, meeting his eye. "I came here for Eric and Nancy."

"Yeah, I know." Steven said. "I came here for them, too, y'know."

"Then let's _not_ do this, and say we didn't." Jackie said, turning on her heel. She ignored his call of her name, hurrying back into the community center.

"Hey!" Donna said from their table, her smile freezing on her lips. "You ok? Where have you been?"

"Oh, I just needed some air." Jackie said, waving off her concern. She slid her arms into her coat, and grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, but I'm really tired. Driving for two days straight will do that to a person." Jackie grabbed her umbrella, slinging the strap over her wrist. "I think I'm just going to head to your place, if that's cool?"

"We'll come with you." Donna said, turning to look for Keith.

"No!" Jackie nearly yelled. She laughed, as if her outburst hadn't been nearly as psychotic sounding as it really was. Heather was frowning up at her with concern, her diamond ring glittering in the soft light. Jackie forced her attention back to Donna. "No, really, you're having a good time. Just give me a key and I'll let myself in."

Donna found her own house key, taking it off of the ring. She handed it to Jackie along with a verbal set of instructions on how to get to the house. Jackie repeated them back to her, slipping the key into her coat pocket.

"I set up the guest room for you." Donna said, walking with her to the exit. Steven was coming in as they neared the doors and he paused, waiting. "There are clean towels in the bathroom. We'll be home soon, if you need anything, just ask or look."

"Thanks, Donna." Jackie said. "I'm good, honestly, just tired."

Donna continued to follow her, for which Jackie was grateful. Steven scowled, remaining quiet as Jackie flew past him and out into the night. She refused to turn back to see if he was still there. She didn't care, she told herself. She didn't care at all.

The Volvo rumbled to life, idling hard. Warm air blasted from the vents and Jackie shifted the car into reverse, forcing herself to keep from peeling out from the parking lot onto the main road. Soft music drifted through the cars speakers and she tried to focus on the tones, on the steady beat of the wiper blades.

Donna and Keith's single story house was easy enough to find, and Jackie parked before it on the curb. Her heavy suitcase bumped against her thigh as she made her way up the salted walk. They had left the porch light on, and a lamp burning in the living room. Jackie didn't bother to spend time judging the décor. She turned immediately left down the short hall and into what she took as the guest room.

A large wicker bed took up much of the room's space, and Jackie fell onto it fully clothed. She wanted to cry again, at her own stupidity. She never learned. Jackie was unsure how long she lay upon the bed, but eventually rose to change into her thick, flannel pajamas. She turned her back to the bedroom door, ignoring Donna's soft knock when they arrived home about an hour later. The bedroom door whooshed open over the high plush carpet, and Jackie squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring Donna's soft whisper of her name.

The door closed just as softly, and Jackie's eyes drifted open. She stared at the curtains covering the window, at the ambient, yellow light drifting through the pale pink fabric.

 _You owe me this._ Steven's words echoed in her brain. Maybe she did owe him an explanation, Jackie thought, tears gathering. She had left him. But he'd left her first. He'd betrayed her first. Everything came back full circle, and it was his fault, Jackie decided. He should have come after her; he should have come after her to Florida. He should have put that diamond ring on _her_ finger.

Jackie curled onto her side, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. Mascara stung her eyes, and it hurt, holding back the force of her tears. She could hear Donna and Keith in the room next to hers, their voices soft as they spoke, and softer still as they began to make love.

Rolling onto her back, Jackie sighed heavily, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and collecting in the shells of her ears.

Tomorrow was a new day. Tomorrow she would be a new woman.

She just had to get through the wedding. _One more day_. She could do that, Jackie thought, wishing she could believe it.


	2. Only If For A Night

**Two: Only If For A Night**

Heather wrapped her arms tight about Steven's waist. She pulled his hips closer to hers, pulling him back with her to rest against the bumper of her small Mazda. Steven kept his hands in his jacket pockets, but nuzzled the tip of his nose against hers, his lips brushing like a whisper against hers. Heather pulled away, her heart shaped face pulled into a faux pout. Her blond hair was a halo around her head in the streetlights glow.

"Are you sure you have to go?" Heather asked, lower lip protruding.

Steven kissed her, angling his mouth against hers. Her eyes fluttered when he pulled back, her breath stuttering in her chest. Steven peered down at her, clearing his throat. "Yes, I gotta."

"Well," Heather chewed her lip, her blue eyes darting away and back. She puffed her cheeks. Steven sensed the unasked question.

"What?" He asked tiredly. Heather shook her head no, her pointed chin dropping to touch her ample chest.

"No, nothing." The tip of her patent heel toed the wet pavement.

"Heather," Steven said, pulling back slightly. He was quickly growing annoyed with her coyness, not in the mood for a fight after the events of the evening. She liked playing games, liked to get him to guess what she was feeling. He had spent enough of his life playing games in a relationship. Steven wished she would just shoot him and get it over with. He pulled a hand down his face, eyes heavy with fatigue and belly full of the whisky's he had drunk over the course of the evening. "Just tell me."

Heather heaved a great sigh, her breasts rising and falling. Her right palm slapped down against her thigh. "I just. I don't understand why you have to go to a strip club. Can't you just go to a bar or something? Get wasted and _not_ spend time staring at naked girls? Naked girls who aren't me?"

"Hey, it's not my choice." Steven said. He jerked his head over towards Eric's shadow. Eric had Nancy bent against their car, kissing her thoroughly. "It's just one night, Heather, it's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Heather parroted. Her tone had grown hard. She released his waist, her arms crossing under her chest. "Uhm, pretty sure you looking at other naked women, gyrating around a stage, while you throw dollar bills at them, _is_ a big deal, Steven."

"Hey." Steven grabbed her chin, bringing their eyes to meet. He smiled, pecking her mouth. Heather barely kissed him back, surprise showing in her eyes at how quickly he pulled away from her. "I won't be throwing dollar bills at anyone. I'll be inserting them in G-strings and crevices like a normal man."

"That's not funny, Steven." Heather said crossly, pushing roughly out of his grasp. She stepped away, moving around the bumper towards the driver's door. The back of her coat was wet where she had leaned against the car.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Steven said, reaching out and grabbing her arm. Heather didn't pull away, but stopped, leaning against the car. She crossed her arms again, this time refusing to make eye contact. A muscle twitched in her jaw. "I'm only joking!"

"Whatever." Heather mumbled. Her eyes darted to his face and away again. Her blonde hair glowed under the dim parking lot light, her teased bangs casting a shadow over the upper half of her face. "I don't think it's a thing to joke about." Her hand rose accusingly between them, diamond glittering beside the brass of her hair. "We _are_ engaged."

"I know we are," Steven said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice, "I am the one who proposed." He stepped back and away from the engagement ring as if scalded.

"You know what?" Heather said, her eyes sharp. "I'll just see you tomorrow. Have fun with your slutty girls tonight, Steven." She yanked her keys from his coat pocket. Heather's hands shook as she attempted to slip the key into the drivers lock.

"Heather, stop it." Steven said. He reached out towards her. "Look, you know how I feel about you and nothing is going to happen. You can't touch the strippers." The laughter that bubbled up his throat died at the withering glare Heather set on him over her shoulder. "It's, like, the first rule of strip clubs."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Heather asked, whirling around.

"Doesn't it?" Steven retorted, brows furrowed.

Heather opened her mouth to respond, incredulous. She gaped at him like a fish for a moment, her brow wrinkling.

"Look, Nancy isn't mad at Forman!" Steven said, pointing to the pair in question. Their mouths made a loud suction sound as they broke apart, turning towards Steven and Heather at the sounds of their names.

"Hey, man, don't bring us into this." Eric said, his hands rising in the air.

Nancy bit her red, swollen lip, glancing at Eric and then to Steven and Heather. "Heather, I'm not really happy with it either-"

"You said you were ok with this."

"-but it's not like they're going to have sex with them. It's Eric's last night of freedom." Nancy's voice was resigned, as if she had had this exact argument too many times to count.

Heather didn't respond to Nancy, but turned her attention back to Steven. Her blue eyes were two sapphires, cutting him with their sharp edge. "Fine."

"Are we going to fight when I get home?" Steven asked. He blew air from his nostrils, an attempt at a laugh leaving him. "Cause I'd rather just get all of that out the way now."

Heather scuffed her shoe, scoffing. "You can be so insensitive, Steven."

"Heather, seriously," Steven said, stepping towards her and bringing his hands up to cup her face. "I love you. And I'm going to marry you. You have _nothing_ to worry about."

He kissed her then, surprising them both with the pressure of his mouth against hers. Their teeth mashed together, Heather's lips glowing white, then slowly back to pink after they parted. Steven's own mouth stung and his licked his lips, pulling a smile at her. Heather didn't return his smile, but her look changed. The corners of her eyes turned down, and she sucked her lips into her mouth, sucking on them.

"Hey," Steven said, knuckling her chin. "Buck up, Kid. I love you."

Heather looked up at him through her lashes. "I love you, too."

Steven kissed her again, softer this time. He stepped into her embrace, his hands sweeping into her hair. Their hips pressed against one another, her full breasts bursting from the top of her dress. His tongue swept into her mouth, clashing with hers, and he sighed into her, knowing he had won when she whimpered against him, her hands grappling at the openings to his coat. She opened her knees, and he stepped into them, rolling his pelvis against hers. His arousal pressed back against her.

"Don't stay gone too long?" Heather whispered against him, nipping his lower lip between her teeth. "I'll be thinking about you?"

"Will you be thinking about me in that little black number?" Steven asked, smirking down at her.

Heather returned his smile coquettishly. She pressed her arms together, accentuating her breasts. "Maybe."

"You do it for me." Steven said, glancing down at her cleavage and back to her face. He pulled her coat closed, buttoning it against the cold. Stepping away, Steven massaged his lips together. "Drive safe."

"Always." Heather replied. She opened the door to her car, throwing her purse into the passengers seat. Pausing before climbing behind the wheel, she wheeled back. "I'm still not ok with this."

"I'll make it up to you." Steven replied, making his way over towards Eric and Nancy.

"Are you ready to go yet, or what?" Kelso yelled across the lot from his parked car. Jon watched from the passenger window, his face lit from the street lamp. Kelso rested his forearms on top of his car. He sounded whiney and cranky. "Come on! It's getting late! Clubs are gonna close!"

"See you tomorrow." Nancy said to her fiancé. She grew stern, eyes narrowing as she watched her future husband step away. "Make smart choices."

Eric saluted her, joining Steven and walking by his side towards Kelso's idling car. "Women." Eric muttered under his breath. His shoulders rose to his ears as they walked in step away from their women. "Its just strippers."

"Eh, I get it." Steven said, working the tension that had settled over his shoulders free. Heather honked as she left the parking lot. Steven raised a hand in response to her fading taillights.

"Last night of freedom, last night to do all those things that single guys get to do." Eric said, waving at Nancy as she passed by, her tires hissing over the pavement. "Donna got it. Hell, Donna _went_ to a strip club herself!"

"Yeah, but you're not marrying Donna." Steven pointed out as they neared Kelso's car.

"Yeah, true," Eric agreed. They parted at the bumper.

"About damn time." Kelso said, ducking behind the wheel. "I nearly wasted half a tank of gas for you two to kiss your women goodbye."

"Quit your belly aching, we're going, we're going." Eric said, slamming his door closed.

"How did you get out of Jimmy tagging along?" Steven asked as Michael put the car in drive. The Community Center's lot was mostly empty, the guests of Eric and Nancy's rehearsal dinner long gone. "I can only imagine how that would have worked out. Jimmy yelling at all the strippers."

"Man, he hasn't changed since high school," Eric said, cupping his forehead.

"Wait." Michael said from the front seat, looking at Eric in the rearview mirror. "Are you telling me Nancy's brother Jimmy, is Jimmy Headgear?"

"Yeah." Eric said, his hand dropping to his lap. "He's a cool guy though."

"Little strange." Steven inserted.

"Little bit." Eric agreed.

"You and Heather ok?" Jon asked from the front seat, his face turned towards the window.

"Yeah, we're cool." Steven said. "I'll make it up to her. Somehow. I just hope she doesn't ask me about it tomorrow."

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"She has the habit of wanting to know every little detail," Steven said, adjusting in his seat. "She's like a damn attorney. I'll be cross-examined before I even get to eat breakfast."

"You should be used to that." Michael piped up. "Considering you dated Jackie for a couple years."

"Jackie was never that bad." Steven said. "She wanted to know, but she didn't want all the gory details. Heather will ask the color of the stripper's eyes, if they had any birthmarks, weird shit like that."

"Why?" Eric asked.

"I guess to see how much I was paying attention?" Steven replied. He sighed. "Fuck, I don't know. I never know how to answer her."

"Jackie used to question me for hours after I cheated on her. _Hours._ " Michael said, accelerating once they reached the town line. "One time, she kept me up for a whole night asking details to what happened."

"I'm not cheating on my fiancé, though." Steven growled. Hearing how blasé Kelso admitted to cheating on Jackie brought back all the old feelings of hatred and resentment Steven had harbored towards his friend. He didn't miss the feeling.

"How many times exactly _did_ you cheat on Jackie?" Jon asked, his tone suggesting something that made Steven frown in contemplation. He and Eric shared a look, telling the other they had both picked up on the same nuance.

Michael shrugged, peeking at Jon from the corner of his eye. "I don't know. A lot."

"She was having a good time tonight," Eric said. "It was nice of her to come up from Florida."

Steven scowled out the window. His breath fogged the glass and he pulled back, fraught with memory. He was eighteen, and back in the Camino, cleaning Jackie's fingerprints off the passenger window. She had had this annoying habit of writing their initials surrounded by little hearts in the condensation created by her warm breath. He had spent enough of the evening worried about Jackie, had made a fool of himself trying to open up to her, only to be smacked down without a second thought.

Not that he should be surprised. She had left him all those years ago. Which was why he didn't bother to tell her about Heather. He hadn't spoken to her since the day before she left for Sarasota, when she had promised she would stay here, with him. When he had promised that she was it for him, that he'd marry her and make her happy.

It was obvious she didn't care about him. Jackie had made it glaringly obvious by her departure.

Maybe she never had loved him after all. Maybe it had all just been a game. And Jackie was the queen of playing games.

Pain gripped at Steven's chest, a sharp clutching over his heart, and he felt like a fool all over again. His eyes scanned the other occupants, afraid that maybe they could see how traitorous his heart was being to him. How he was _feeling_.

 _Damn alcohol._

"Can we stop talking about Jackie?" Steven bit out, his tone harsher than he meant it to be.

The other three quieted for a moment, before striking up a different path of conversation. The car sped down the highway towards Kenosha, the foursome quickly falling into a bought of conversation interrupted only whenever a good song blared over the radio. Michael needn't have worried about the strip clubs being closed. The seedier part of Kenosha boasted a whole street of strip clubs and seedy bars, all of which appeared to be partying with full force. Parking in a lot at the end of the road, the four men stepped out the car and met at the sidewalk, their breaths clouding before their mouths and noses.

"Where to first, Groom of Honor?" Jon asked, dipping his hands into his pockets and scanning the street. Small droplets of water began to fall, plopping off their shoulders and heads.

A woman dressed in a miniskirt and halter had caught sight of them. She began to make her way towards them, her dampened fur coat falling from one shoulder, and Steven steered Eric away, noting with relief that Michael and Jon had followed. She scowled as they moved away, her smile quickly returning as a car slowed its approach. Her cigarette-hoarse voice echoed down the sidewalk. "Hey, baby…"

Eric's gaze was trained eyelevel, staring into red and pink-lit windows, watching women gyrate and spin on poles and in cages. He paused before a woman covered strategically in large flecks of glitter, a lascivious smile spread on his lips. Music pulsed from club entrances. Burly security guards sat just inside the doorways, thick golden chains hanging from their necks.

Steven watched the women dance, half following, and half leading his best friends down the walk. He stopped before a club, chortling at the name. "The Juicy Bungalow. _We take off more than Boeing._ "

They entered the club, sniffling at the sudden change of temperature. Heat pulsed from the vents, and all four of them unzipped their coats, shaking droplets of water from their shoulders. Steven paid the cover charge to the bouncer, and headed over for the bar. "Beers?" He called over the music.

Jon stepped up beside Steven, his dark eyes scanning the bar and the mirror strategically placed behind it. "Yeah, I'll take a beer."

"Beers!" Michael yelled, following Eric to a table next to the stage, hands on Eric's shoulders as he steered him between tables. A woman with tightly stretched, ballooned breasts was gyrating to Pour Some Sugar On Me. She hooked her thumbs into her thong, balancing on her platform heels as she came down to her knees, her gaze settling on her two new customers.

Steven stepped a foot onto the gold bar lining the bottom of the bar. The bartender came around, the rhinestones on her bra glittering under the pink light. She leaned against the bar, accentuating her chest. Deep lines curved her mouth, and she pulled a drag off the cigarette perched between her first and second fingers. "Evening, gentlemen. What's your poison?"

Jon shifted beside Steven. He sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Eric and Michael as they took their seats. Steven held up four fingers. "Four beers. Four bourbons, two fingers."

"You got it, Handsome." The bartender grabbed a bottle of bourbon, pouring out shots. She set them on a tray and moved off to pour their beers, cigarette smoke trailing after her.

"You don't like strip clubs?" Steven asked Jon.

Jon shrugged. "They're alright." He took one of the beers the bartender set on the tray, pulling out his wallet. Steven waved him off, mumbling the first round was on him. "Thanks. You like places like this? Smells like warm cheese."

Steven sniffed the air. "Warm cheese, vanilla, and baby powder. The trifecta." Steven grabbed the tray and led the way to Forman and Kelso. "I used to like these kind of places."

"What changed?" Jon asked as they neared the others.

 _Jackie_. _Samantha._ Steven thought. _Mostly Jackie._ "Ugh, well, it's a long story. Not a very interesting one, either."

"Dude!" Michael said, his attention briefly turning to them. "About time!"

"In honor of Forman's last night of freedom-" Steven set the tray down, passing around the shots. "Bourbons! Drink till you can't see straight!"

"Score!" Eric grabbed his, raising it into the air.

"To Forman!" Steven cheered, his shot glass rising.

"To Forman!" Jon and Michael repeated. They all clinked glasses, tipping back the golden liquid.

Steven grabbed a beer, taking a seat at the table. He stared up at the stripper, climbing the silver pole with ease. Her thighs flexed, and she arched her back, beginning a slow spin around and around, slowly down the pole. Kelso and Forman tossed dollar bills onto the stage, whistling as she cupped her large breasts, teasing her nipples to stiff peaks.

"Artists!" Michael yelled. Jon sighed heavily, swallowing a large gulp of beer. His dark eyes watched the woman slide off the pole, swinging on the tips of her toes around the greased pole as another woman appeared on stage. Lewd cheers rose around them, and Eric stared like a kid in a candy store, his hands absently worrying over a stack of ones clutched in his fingers.

Steven's mind drifted. He sipped his beer, staring at the stripper but not seeing. His blood was already warm with booze from the rehearsal dinner. The bourbon shot fueled his waning buzz. His arms felt heavy, his feet cement in his boots. The air was heavy with the heady, musty scent of woman. Michael and Eric watched entranced, ordering new beers before Steven and Jon had even finished their first ones. The lights pulsed and changed with the music. Women prowled the floors, enticing men with lap dances and strip teases.

"This man here!" Michael yelled, his pointer finger aimed at the top of Forman's head. He waved a twenty in the air. Steven looked to his right, where Michael gesticulated and watched a tall brunette approach. She smiled coquettishly at them, her manicured hands playing at the satin tie of her robe. "This man's getting married!"

"Getting married, huh?" The stripper said, stopping on her pursuit. Her gold-tipped fingers accepted the twenty, palming the air for more. Michael passed her another twenty. Folding the bills, she slipped them into the band of her stocking. Placing her hands on her hips, she teetered on her heels. Gold bands wrapped up her arms; a blue lamé wrap was slung over her shoulders, hanging tantalizingly open and revealing hints of her glittered skin. "Well, sweetheart it's your lucky day. Cherry's here to take care of you."

Cherry grabbed Eric's loosened tie, leading him from his chair towards a low couch. She pushed his shoulders down, beginning to dance for him. Steven turned away, polishing off the last of his beer.

Michael raised his empty beer, signaling for another round. "Man, I haven't been to a place like this in forever."

"Missing it?" Jon asked, taking a fresh beer from the waitress.

"Nah, not particularly." Michael said. He took a gulp of beer and scrunched his nose. "Does anyone else smell cheese?"

-x-

Steven sunk lower into the couch, his eyes unfocused as Sapphire danced for him. She turned her back, showing off her toned muscles, and rubbed against his thighs. He was unsure of how much time had passed, but he knew he was wasted. Double vision wrecked his brain. Every sip he took of his beer sloshed in his belly. Sapphire's dark locks spilled forward over her shoulders and Steven smirked at the sight. Tanned skin, dark hair, and dark eyes, the only thing missing was Sapphire was nowhere near as pretty as Jackie. And her breasts were much larger than Jackie's, stretch marks barely hidden beneath her tiny bikini top.

"What's got you looking so blue?" Sapphire asked, turning. She sat in his lap, a hand running through his curls. Her thumb hooked his chin, drawing his head up and back to rest against the back of the couch. "Girl troubles?"

"It's my ex." Steven slurred, taking a long sip of beer. A hand rose, his pointer finger making circles at his temple. "She's got me all fucked up."

"Did she break your heart?" Sapphire asked, subtly moving her hips over his lap.

Steven scoffed, his thighs opening in response. He felt himself begin to grow hard. "What a bitch. She stomped all over it." He mimed tearing out his heart. "Just like that." Steven made a fist, his head falling back against the couch again. "Her perfectly manicured hands just crushed it. _Poof!_ Like nothing."

Sapphire rose, straddling his waist. Her fingers cupped his shoulders as she danced over him. "Poor baby. Did you tell this Jackie how you feel?"

"Nope!" Steven's lips popped over the p. He laughed without humor. "She's so selfish. It's all about her. Always has been, always will be."

"Put her out of your mind, sweetheart," Sapphire purred in his ear. She revolved over him more aggressively. Steven took a swallow of beer, unaffected except for the growing member in his dress pants.

"All she ever does is think of herself." Steven went on, dribbling beer over his shirt. "Selfish." He sloshed beer over the couch. Sapphire took a step back, her hips still swaying to the song. Her hands rose to her hair, lifting it off of her neck. A lip disappeared between her teeth. Sapphire dipped on her heels, her hands sliding down her legs and back up as she straightened, her hair wild about her head. Steven's free palm slapped onto the leather couch. "I even tried to explain it to her! But would she listen?"

Sapphire opened her mouth to speak, but Steven interrupted her.

"Nooooooooooo." He belched, finishing his beer.

"Ok, yeah, look, I don't know what to say here." Sapphire stopped dancing. She cocked a hip, giving him a terse look. "I make most of my money on tips, y'know."

"Oh." Steven said, snapping his fingers at her. "Right, mo-nay." He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, closing one eye so he could see the remaining bills in his billfold. Pulling a bill from its depths, Steven held it out to Sapphire. She took it, thanking him before making her way towards a group of men sat in a semi-circle further down the couch. They whistled at her approach, and she stepped into their fold.

"You still on about Jackie?" Jon said, sinking onto the couch beside him. He handed Steven a new beer. Red ringed Jon's irises, and a flush had crept up his neck, settling on his cheeks. Jon had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Steven's head felt heavy, rotating on his neck to peer at Jon.

"What?" Steven sputtered incredulously. "I have _not_ been on about Jackie."

"Hyde." Jon said, sounding surprisingly sober despite his obvious drunkenness. "You've talked of nothing _but_ Jackie since we've been here."

"No." Steven refuted. He snorted into his beer. "No."

"You should just go talk to Jackie." Jon said. He clutched the handle of his beer mug, a small burp pushing past his lips. His eyes grew unfocused, lids falling closed. "Go tell her everything."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Steven grumbled angrily. Go talk to Jackie? He had just spent the whole night trying to talk to her. And to what avail? He knew how she was, spoiled and childish. Going to her now would only solidify in her mind whatever warped, fucked-up notion she had already created, justifying her actions. He'd go talk to her as soon as hell froze over.

"Then quit talking about her like you're still in love with her." Jon said, matching Steven's tone.

"In love with- No." Steven gulped down half of his beer, ending on a solid belch. "No, I love the other one."

Jon laughed. He condescendingly asked, "'The other one'?"

"Yeah." Steven squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brain. He could just make her out. Blond. Big Tits. No, that was the dancer. No, that was someone else. Right? Sam? _No, not her._ This one had bigger tits than Sam. And a heart shaped face.

"You mean Heather? Your _fiancé_?" Jon asked. He sounded increasingly disapproving.

Steven sighed with relief, fingers snapping. God, he was wasted. "That's it. Heather."

"Man, what happened between you two?" Jon asked. "You and Jackie. I gotta know. Curiosity is killing me."

"I married a stripper." Steven said matter-of-factly. He stared at a blond waiting with a tray at the bar. From this distance she could pass for a slightly older version of Sam. Steven's voice leveled, and he felt sober for the first time in hours. "She was gonna fuck Kelso in a hotel room, and I was gonna propose, and I married a stripper."

"That explains why you don't like strip clubs anymore." Jon said.

Steven sighed, his beer balancing precariously on his thigh. "All I wanted to do was talk to her. Get it all out in the open." He stretched out 'all', curling his tongue up behind his teeth. "She's mad cause I didn't tell her about Heather. Well I'm mad cause she just fucking up and left."

"Weren't you already seeing Heather though?" Jon asked. "Michael is hazy on the details."

"That's beside the point."

Jon fixed a stare on Steven. "Is it now?"

"Look, Heather and I were nothing serious, and Jackie was about to leave for Sarasota, and I don't know." Steven pushed his beer between his thighs, pressing his palms to his eyes. White stars burst before his vision. He suddenly felt extremely dizzy, and his pulse beat heavily in his throat. His next belch held a tinge of vomit.

"You two did it." Jon supplied.

Steven's hands fell away from his face. "It's more complicated than that."

"You should go talk to Jackie." Jon said.

"I already tried that." Steven said. He took a long drink. "She doesn't want to talk to me."

Jon grabbed Steven's arm, surprising Steven with his intensity. "Than we'll make her listen!"

"What?" Steven asked, apprehension rising in his belly. "No, man. I don't wanna."

"Come on!" Jon said, pulling him up off the couch. Jon led them back to Forman and Michael at the stage. He nudged Michael's shoulder. "Come on, let's go. We gotta help Steven get Jackie back."

"No, I don't want Jackie back." Steven said. His empty mug hung limp at his thigh. "I'm engaged. To Heather."

"You couldn't remember her name five minutes ago." Jon said.

Steven swayed on his feet. "I'm drunk."

Eric stood, nearly tripping over the leg of his chair. "I think you should stay. And throw these dollar bills at these ladies." He spread his arms, kissing his fingertips at the trio of women on stage. "Artists! Artists I tell you!"

"Fine. We'll catch a cab." Jon said. He frog marched Steven towards the exit, their coats grasped in his other hand.

"What?" Steven asked, blinking rapidly. He shivered at the sudden change in temperature as Jon led him out into the rain. "No. I don't wanna. Look, man, you don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do. You'll feel so much better." Jon said. He flagged down a cab, shoving Steven in to the backseat. "After Shannon broke my heart, it was the only way to heal. Having it out."

"This girl Shannon broke your heart?" Steven slurred, righting himself in the back of the cab.

"Uhm, yeah." Jon said. He tossed Steven's coat to him. He spouted off an address to the cabbie. "Point Place."

"Costs extra to leave the city."

"Yeah, alright."

Steven rested his forehead against the cold pane of glass, breathing deep and slow. He felt nauseous and anxious. The longer he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn't remember just why they were doing this. He didn't want to do this. He should be getting home to Heather. His fiancé. Jon hummed along to the radio, and the cabbie managed to find each and every pothole on the way back to Point Place, upsetting Steven's already rumbling stomach.

Jon gave the cabbie turn-by-turn directions once they had made it to Point Place, and Steven sank further and further into his seat. He felt like a caged animal. They entered Donna and Keith's neighborhood, the tires swooshing down the quiet street. Steven wished he could just fall asleep. Maybe Jon would give it up if Steven fell asleep, tell the cab to take him home instead.

Donna and Keith's house was a red-bricked, one story set back in the neighborhood. What little landscaping they had managed to accomplish before the winter had all died, leaving curled and browned flower stalks and bushes. A lone white ceramic duck and her ducklings flanked the mailbox.

The cab pulled in behind Jackie's Volvo at the curb, brakes squealing as they rolled to a stop. Steven groaned, staring through the windshield at the shiny dark blue paint brightened by the cab's headlights. Jon paid the cabbie, tipping him for the extra mileage.

"Come on." Jon said, stepping out of the cab.

"I really don't want to, Jon." Steven said. His knees rubbed against the back of the drivers seat. "You don't know what you're asking of me, man."

The cabbie turned, giving the two men an odd look. Jon noticed, his tone softening. "Look, ya just gotta tell her how you feel. How hard can that be?"

"You fucking kidding me?" Steven asked rhetorically as he climbed out of the backseat. The cab pulled away, Steven wishing he were still in it. The house lurched, the earth at a severe tilt. He leaned against the daffodil painted mailbox. "I'm too drunk for this."

"Liquid courage!" Jon said, high stepping across the wet grass. He stopped at a window at the front of the house, blinds closed tight against the night. Noticing Steven hadn't followed, Jon motioned him on, a sharp whistle escaping his lips.

"Jesus Christ." Steven cursed. He slipped on the grass, scowling down as his feet continued to lead him on. He cursed at his body, betrayed by the thought of seeing her again.

Jon knocked softly on the window. "Jackie?"

Steven squatted down, his back pressed against the brick. "Jon, I don't feel so hot."

Rapping his knuckles against the glass again, Jon called louder, "Jackie?"

The porch light flipped on, startling both men with its brightness. Keith stood on the porch, a shotgun in his hands. He visibly relaxed at the sight of them, disengaging the gun.

Keith called into the house. "It's just Jon and Hyde."

"Were you going to shoot us?" Jon asked incredulously, hands raised to his shoulders.

"That's not cool, man," Steven said, letting his head drop between his knees. A soft belch rose up the back of his throat, acid spilling over his tongue. "Ugh. Totally not cool."

Donna joined Keith on the porch, pulling her blue terrycloth robe closed about her. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, her slippered feet sliding on the concrete porch. "Jon? Hyde? What the _hell_ are you two doing here?"

"We're drunk." Steven said. He gagged, spitting into the frozen, dead grass at his feet.

"Hyde has something he needs to say to-" Jon began, yelping when Steven frogged him just over the kneecap. "What the hell?"

"I wanted to know if I could crash here." Steven said. He gagged again, his abs contracting. "I'm wasted. I don't want Heather to see me like this."

Donna looked like she didn't believe a word he said. Her eyebrows drew together on her smooth forehead. "Won't she be worried when you don't come home?"

"Just a couple hours." Steven said. "I'll crash on the couch, be gone before you even wake up."

Donna shrugged, at a loss. Keith looked at his fiancé and then at the two men crouched in the dying bushes before his house. "Alright."

"Keith!" Donna shrieked. She slapped the back of her hand against his belly. "No. Hyde I think you should just go home. I really don't think it's a good idea for you to be here."

"Yeah, alright, I didn't want to come here anyway." Steven muttered. He stood shakily to his feet, his right leg asleep from having crouched for so long in the cold. He meandered over to the curb, sitting with his back against the wooden mailbox stake. "Would one of ya call me a cab?"

Steven's head fell into his hands. He blocked out the small conversation behind him. Embarrassment rolled over him in waves. He was ashamed most of all. What would Heather think of him? She loved him more than he felt he had ever been loved in his life, bent over backwards to make him happy. And he repaid her by spending the night at a strip club, getting trashed, and talking about Jackie. He didn't deserve her, he thought, his head rising. Jon joined him at the curb, sinking to sit beside him.

"Look, Hyde, I'm sorry." Jon rubbed his hands together.

Steven waved him off. His eyes rose to look at the cloudy sky. Freezing rain fell on his cheeks. "Don't worry about it."

A cab pulled the corner and Steven climbed in, leaving the door open for Jon. "Two stops." Steven said, suddenly feeling more sober than he had the whole evening.

Jon was blessedly quiet as they drove towards Heather's apartment. Steven paid his part of the fare, bidding Jon goodnight. The rain had finally paused, and Steven walked as though a man condemned into the building, taking the stairs at a glacial pace.

Half-melted candles littered the apartments flat surfaces. Instantly, guilt multiplied in his body. Heather had obvious spent time up waiting for him. A blanket was crumpled at the end of the couch, and cold when Steven touched it. The clock on the mantle read a quarter after four.

"Fuck."

Steven stepped past the closed bedroom door, intending to take a shower and wash the night off of him before he attempted to talk to Heather. Pausing as he reached the bathroom, Steven waited, listening hard for any rustling behind the bedroom door. Hearing none, he sequestered himself away, peeling his wet clothes from his body, and piling them on the floor by the sink. He turned the setting as hot as he could stand it, using Heather's loofa and strawberry scented soap to scrub his skin raw. Water dripped from his curls, and he secured a towel about his waist, scooping up his soiled clothing. Already he felt better, he thought, less drunk and more cognizant. Dumping his clothing in the washer, Steven started the machine, padding through the kitchen and living room and back to the bedroom.

Heather had her back turned to him, the covers pulled up to her ears. She was stiff, too stiff, and Steven knew immediately she was still awake. Probably watching the minutes tick by, growing more and more upset the longer it took him to come home. Closing the door with a snap, Steven felt a heavy sigh fall from lips.

Steven let the towel fall to the floor, and he climbed between the sheets beside her, scooting across the mattress till their bodies touched. Heather tensed, if possible, more, her chin ducking to close off access to her neck. 

"Hey," Steven whispered, sweeping her hair back. "I'm sorry I'm back so late."

Heather didn't respond. Her shoulders quivered. She turned her face into the pillow.

Steven placed a hand on her hip. He shook her slightly, the corner of his mouth rising. "Are you crying?"

"What do you care?"

"Heather, nothing happened." _Something had almost happened._

"Why were you gone for so long?" Heather sniffled. She rubbed her chin against the pillow, her folded arms blocking Steven's attempt at touching her. "I didn't think you would stay out this long. You _know_ I didn't want you to go."

"Baby, I told you, it was for Forman's bachelor party." Steven said, the excuse lame to his own ears.

Heather turned so one blue eye could focus on him. "Doesn't mean you had to go."

"I know." Steven agreed. His tongue felt thick in his mouth. "It won't happen again."

"Whatever." Heather mumbled, turning away from him again.

Steven pulled the cover off of her shoulder. He kissed her bare skin. "I missed you."

"Sure you did." Heather said. She jerked away from him, hindered by his hand on her hip. "Why would you miss me when you had all those naked women to look at?"

"Cause I love you," Steven said, trailing kisses up her skin. His grip tightened on her. "And you're the one I want."

 _That must be why you spent the whole night reminiscing about Jackie._

"You're just horny." Heather said, ignoring his advances. Her shoulders curled in, her knees rising under the sheet.

Steven pressed his front to her back, his hand coming forward to cup her breast. He kissed her shoulder, coaxing her to relax to gain access to her neck. She was still dressed in the black slip he liked, the low cut bodice doing nothing to hold her breasts back. They spilled from the top, overflowing into his hands. He pulled up the bottom of the slip, his fingers dipping around the curl her warm center.

"Let me show you how much I love you." Steven said, his voice a pleading whisper. "Heather, you're the only one I want. Baby, I promise."

Heather's shoulders relaxed, and Steven placed a lingering kiss to her neck. He pulled her hip back to meet his naked body. Each kiss to her skin was torture. With every caress he felt guiltier and guiltier. As Heather opened up to him, eventually turning onto her back, wrapping him in her arms, her thighs opening to accept his body, Steven tried to keep his mind focused. With each stroke of his fingers against her he whispered her name. Each kiss was softer and gentler than any kiss he had given before.

"What's wrong?" Heather panted, pushing her hair from her face. Her breath warmed Steven's chin.

"What?" Steven asked.

"You're different." Heather involuntarily moaned as Steven moved inside her.

Steven kissed her in response. His tongue sought out hers, and he moaned into her, his hips rolling in languid movements. Heather's eyes drifted closed and she pressed the flat of her palms to the headboard, holding her steady as Steven rose onto his hands, quickening his pace. Her body was tight beneath him, her ribs exposed and expanding with each quivering breath. Heather's breasts bounced in quicker pendulum swings. She quaked underneath him, coming with a squeal. Heather smiled up at him, her hands rising to curl around his neck.

"Come for me, baby," Heather moaned, pulling Steven down over her.

Their bodies pressed together, Steven squeezed his eyes shut tight, panting as he felt his release near. Heather wrapped her legs about his hips, her heels pressing into his ass. His mouth opened, sucking hard at her neck. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room.

"Steven!" Heather cried.

Pulsing deep inside her, Steven released her skin and released deep into her body, his eyes still closed tight. Returning Heather's kisses, Steven rolled off of her, pulling her body snug to him.

 _One more day_. Steven sighed, his breath fluttering Heather's bangs. He kissed her forehead, his sweating skin sticking to hers. _One more fucking day._


	3. Breaking Down

**Three: Breaking Down**

Pale light filtered into the room, belying the sound of fresh sleet plopping against the windowpane. Jackie's eyes opened slowly, her lashes glued together with residual mascara. Her knees drifted up to her belly, and she recoiled from the taste of wine haunting at the back of her throat. Memories of the night before hit her like a brick wall, embarrassment playing second fiddle to her lingering dreams. Once again, she had let her emotions take the best of her. She was one step closer to becoming Pamela Burkhart.

Groaning, she pushed a lock of hair out of her face. Her fingers gripped her forehead, briefly alleviating the pounding headache pulsing at her temples. Black streaks of mascara and lipstick stained the pale pink pillowcase. Jackie scowled, flipping the pillow over. She rolled onto her back, licking her chapped lips. Water. She desperately wanted water.

Donna and Keith's bedroom door was closed tight, the house dim, as Jackie moved as quietly as a mouse out into the living room. She sighed again, pushing her hair back behind her ears. Grabbing a clean glass from the dish rack, Jackie filled it with tap water, gulping down one glass before refilling it.

Padding down the carpeted hallway, Jackie made a quick stop to her room, gabbing her toiletries bag. She darted across the hall to the small green-tiled bathroom. Setting her water glass and toiletries down, Jackie pondered her reflection. Quirking her brow, she spun on her toe, and started the shower.

Jackie sat on the closed toilet lid, staring around the room. God, she hated Donna's taste. Plastic, vibrantly colored fish swam across the main wall, cluttering a shelf of perfumes and potpourri, and a statue of dancing dolphins that Jackie was positive she had seen at a Forman garage sale. Spotting a radio on the toilet tank, Jackie tuned it to her old standby station from high school.

Steam filled the small room. Jackie stripped, pooling her clothes by the sink. The hot water stung her chilled skin. She lathered up her hair, massaging her fingers in slow circles across her scalp. Singing along with the song on the radio she swung her hips to the beat, gripping the flower bathtub appliques with her toes. She had always loved the water, loved the way it soothed her troubles and relaxed her. It was part of the reason she had taken up the job offer in Florida. To be so close to the ocean, close enough to hear the waves as she drifted off to sleep, had soothed her on many restless nights. Nights she had spent awake, thinking of the past. And the future.

Rinsing cream rinse from her hair, Jackie lathered up her shower pouf, breathing deep the rose hips of her body wash. She lathered up her body, mouthing along to Cyndi Lauper. She danced under the spray, shaking the wet, silky snakes of her hair across her shoulders.

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Jackie!"

Yelping, Jackie nearly slid down the tub, heels splaying. She grabbed the soap dish and the shower curtain, her knees buckling as she caught herself.

Donna opened the door. There was laughter in her voice as she called into the steamy room, "Jackie? Did you fall?"

"Donna!" Jackie squealed. She sat heavily in the tub, shoving her hair off her face. Poking her head around the curtain, she glared at Donna. "I could have _died_ , you lumberjack!"

Keith appeared, laughing heartily as he passed behind Donna in the hall. Donna was leaning against the doorframe, her fingers pressed to her smiling mouth. "Nice to see you're back to your old self."

Jackie clutched the shower curtain around her face. "I could have seriously injured myself!"

"Oh, whatever," Donna said, her hand dropping, though the smile remained. "You were seriously injuring us with your singing. Which, by the way, has not improved since high school."

Donna snapped closed the door. Jackie wrenched closed the curtain. Hot water pelted down on top of her head. She upturned her face, listening as the door popped open again.

"Oh, and," Donna said quickly, "Keith is making breakfast, so quit hogging all the hot water. I'll turn off the pilot light if I have to."

Jackie quickly spun the handle. "Alright, alright."

Keith hummed along to the small radio on the counter as he flipped pancakes. Jackie secured the towel wrapped about her head and took a seat beside Donna at the small table. She crossed her legs pulling a free plate closer.

She forked a couple of pancakes onto her plate, spreading butter and syrup over the hot cakes. Cutting into the warm food, Jackie ate heartily, watching Donna and Keith share a kiss as he placed more pancakes on the table.

"Ugh, get a room." Jackie groaned, fake gagging. She stood from the table, helping herself to the pot of coffee.

"You're just jealous." Keith said, running a hand playfully down his chest. "Jealous of all of this."

Jackie laughed at Keith's antics, snorting into her coffee as he rolled his hips playfully in a way that reminded Jackie of a younger Michael. "Oh, you caught me. So jealous."

Donna slapped Keith's butt as he passed by. She took a bite of pancakes. "So. What are you wearing to the wedding, Jackie?"

"I have this great suit set. Wardrobe picked it out for me to wear on the air, but they let me borrow it for this weekend." Jackie said. "It's this emerald color, kind of like your ring. But prettier."

Donna eyed her engagement ring, passing off the slight with a quirk of her brow. "I found this dress, but now I don't know. It's pretty casual."

"It's great on you." Keith said from his place by the coffee pot. He sounded tired, as if he had spent the better part of his life telling her this. Jackie noted the lack of hesitation as Keith added an extra dollop of Irish Cream to his cup.

"You have to say that." Donna said, rolling her eyes at her fiancé.

"Such a good fiancé." Jackie smiled at Keith as he joined them at the table.

Keith's eyebrows rose. "I do what I can."

Jackie stabbed the last bite of her pancakes, swiping the last of her syrup onto the food, before stuffing it in her mouth. "Alright." She stood, dumping her fork and plate into the sink. "I gotta start getting ready. Else I'll look like Donna at the ceremony."

"Love you too!" Donna called after her retreating form.

Jackie and her coffee returned to the bathroom. She set down her cup and set to work on her hair, fluffing the terry cloth over her mostly dried tresses. _Tears for Fears_ crooned at her as she divided and rolled her hair into curlers. Wrapping a hot pink net about the large curlers, Jackie began on her moisturizing routine, rubbing her lotion into her skin with concentric movements. Pulling her makeup case towards her, she studied her complexion. Perfect, as always. Jackie sorted through her eye shadows, selecting a small compact of pretty gold's and browns. She was going for sultry, yet innocent. Cindy Crawford on the cover of last months Vogue.

"Ev-ery-bo-dy wants to rule the world." Jackie sang, her pitch high, swinging blush up her cheekbones.

"Room for one more, Dolly?" Donna asked as she knocked open the door with her hip.

Jackie scooted down the counter a bit, untying the netting from her hair. She took up her hair dryer, setting it on low so she could still hear the radio.

"I never understood why you go through all that trouble." Donna said, setting her small makeup bag down beside Jackie's train case of cosmetics. Donna picked up a compact of eye shadows, popping open the lid and considering each silky pigment. She touched her pointer finger into a pan of lavender, swiping it across the back of her hand. "Your hair is just going to fall flat in this weather."

"Not if you have patience, Donna." Jackie said, moving the dryer around as her arm became sore. "See, I used to say this exact thing to Steven all the time-"

Jackie cut herself off, blinking as if stunned. She continued to blow dry her hair as if she hadn't just stopped talking midsentence. Like a crazy person. Donna caught her eye in the mirror. She snapped closed the compact, placing it gingerly back amongst the other name brand cosmetics.

"Well, I never much cared for all this crap growing up. Besides, my mom was always already ready when I got up for school, I didn't have a Pamela Burkhart to watch and learn from." Donna said, taking out her foundation and shaking the bottle. She leaned her pelvis against the counter, leaning towards the mirror to contemplate her reflection. "I was more concerned with Eric. Or my parents acting like complete morons. Or the guys ogling my mother in a sweater."

Jackie switched off the dryer. "So how are you? With Eric getting married today, and all?"

"What do you mean?" Donna asked. She dabbed foundation on her face, rubbing it into her skin. She met Jackie's eye in the mirror, than focused back on her foundation. "Like, is it weird?"

"Well, yeah." Jackie said. She had begun to unroll her hair, setting the cooled rollers back in their holder. "At one time, this was supposed to be you two getting married."

Donna sighed, screwing the lid back on her foundation. Passing behind Jackie she nudged open the shower curtain. She washed her hands under the bathtub tap, drying them slowly. "I mean, I guess if I think about it, it's a little strange. But he's with Nancy and I'm with Keith, and we're both happy now. And I'm happy that he's happy."

Jackie made a noncommittal noise, unspooling the last curler. She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking of Steven. Was she happy for Steven if he was happy?

 _No._ The little voice inside her head resolutely said. _No, you're not._

A little surprised at the vehemence that took over, Jackie cleared her throat, dropping the last curler into its holder. "That's really sweet."

Donna paused in her eye shadow application. "Yeah. I mean it was weird. When it was all over. For real over, I mean."

"What do you mean?" Jackie asked, swiping her powder puff across her face. She hoped she sounded nonchalant, but feared she sounded as wired as she felt. She took another sip of lukewarm coffee, trying to mask her emotions.

"I mean." Donna paused, picking up her blusher. She shrugged, loading up the soft brush with tint. "It was hard at first. He was my first love, and my first everything, but it wasn't like I didn't know he would eventually meet someone else. I had just started dating Keith when Eric asked Nancy to marry him. He actually came to me and told me before anyone else could say something to me."

Jackie pulled a brush through her hair, fluffing her curls with her fingers. "He did?" Donna nodded. "How did _that_ go?"

Again Donna shrugged. "It was like we were back in high school or something. He was waiting in the Vista Cruiser, outside the station, and he asked if I was free to go for a drive. He said he had something he needed to tell me."

"Ominous." Jackie remarked.

"Eric is anything if not dramatic." Donna agreed. "Anyway, I don't know, I guess I thought that he was going to like- I don't know, tell me he thought we should get back together or something."

"Why would he tell you that?" Jackie interrupted.

"Because we had been hanging out more lately, and yeah, he had brought Nancy around a few times, but it had never seemed all that serious." Donna applied mascara with slow, even strokes. "And I had always held onto this hope that we would be able to make up and come back together and it would be like how it used to be. Better even."

"But what about Keith?" Jackie asked. "Hadn't you two just started dating?"

"Barely just. We had gone on maybe two dates. I wasn't even sure if I wanted a third at that time." Donna explained. She crossed her arms, turning to face Jackie. She took a deep inhale, her words rushing out with her breath. "He told me about Nancy, about how much he loved her, and about how happy she made him. That was like a punch in the stomach. The first thing I thought was that he was telling me all of this because I had never done any of those things for him."

Jackie stood, entranced.

"And then I kept thinking about how only a couple of weeks prior, when we got drunk at Hyde's Halloween party, how we had kissed, and touched one another and how it had felt to be in his arms again." Donna said all this as if it wasn't a complete shocker to Jackie.

"You did _what_?" Jackie exclaimed. Donna waved a hand, shushing her.

"It was just a mistake, obviously. He avoided me for like a month. Eric said he felt guilty, like he had cheated on Nancy and we promised that it would never happen again and that it would just be between us." Donna snorted. "You're the only other person who knows, as far as I know."

"Well, then what?" Jackie asked, curling her fingers in a Give It To Me fashion.

"He told me that he loved me, and that he had always loved me, always would love me. He said that he still considered me one of his best friends." Donna pursed her mouth, her blue eyes met Jackie's brown ones. "And then he asked for my blessing."

"Your blessing?" Jackie asked incredulously. She tossed her brush into her train case, uncapping a can of Aqua Net. "You cannot seriously tell me he asked you for your blessing."

"He did!" Donna said, laughing a little bit. She brushed out her long red hair, twisting it up on top of her head in an elegant bun. "And I'm happy he did. Keith is amazing. He's the person that I'm supposed to be with. What Eric said was just the closure I needed."

"Closure." Jackie repeated. Her fingers tapped against the edges of her train case. She pulled out a hair comb, twisting up the side of her hair and securing it into place. Jackie kept her eyes trained down, absently sorting through her cosmetics.

"It's an amazing thing." Donna said, pinning her hair with a couple of well-placed bobby pins. She paused, chewing her lip. "Look. Jackie, I know that this may not be my place but… Maybe whatever happened with you and Hyde is just something that just needs to stay there. In the past."

Jackie remained quiet. She felt a deep ache in her belly. Betrayal, maybe, along with cold anger. Here she went again, Donna on Steven's side. She was always on his side. Jackie smiled tightly at Donna as she gathered her things, leaving the bathroom for the guest room.

As she pulled on her clothes, Jackie attempted to quell the zinging that raced up and down her extremities. She had already had her break down, last night. Today was not about her; it was about Nancy. And Eric.

Grabbing her purse, Jackie took one last glance at her reflection. Poised, polished, and pretty. The emerald fabric set perfectly against her tanned skin and dark hair.

"Let's get this over with." Jackie mumbled, heading out to the living room.

"You look very nice." Keith acknowledged upon her arrival into the living room. He adjusted his tie, leaning back in the recliner before the TV.

 _Donna's trained you well,_ Jackie thought, giving Keith a genuine smile. She smoothed her skirt, sitting on the floral couch. "Thanks, Keith."

Propping his elbow on the arm of the recliner, he turned his attention back to the sports highlight on the news. Jackie ran her tongue over her teeth, her hands clasped around her knee. "Donna's not ready yet?"

Keith tore his eyes away from the TV to glance down the hall. "Guess not."

"Donna!" Jackie yelled over her shoulder. "Quit powdering your giant nose, and let's go!"

"Coming, coming," Donna said, emerging from her bedroom. She adjusted the collar of her jacket, working the buttons closed. "Come on! We'll be late! Why are you just sitting around?"

"Uhm, we were ready before you, remember?" Jackie asked, slipping her coat onto her body. " _I_ was ready before you. Do you realize this? I, Jacquelyn Burkhart, was ready before a lumberjack."

"Yeah, yeah." Donna said, leading the way to the garage. She hit the garage doors button, pausing at the passenger's door to let Jackie pass behind her. Her mood had soured since their conversation in the bathroom and Jackie had a small inkling as to why. She imagined that it was the same feeling she herself would be feeling it if were Steven and some girl getting married today. Steven and Heather.

Keith started the Jeep Wagoner, putting it in reverse. The streets were covered with a mixture of ice and dirty snow. The Jeep's tires sloshed over the sludge. Music played softly from the radio, and Keith reached across the console to take Donna's hand. His thumb played with her engagement ring, and she smiled up at him, her eyes lighting when they met his.

The wipers lulled her into a stupor and Jackie turned towards the window, her hot breath fogging the glass. She reached up, tracing the pad of her pointer finger through the condensation, writing out her initials.

" _Would ya quit that? I swear to god I clean that damn window every day."_

 _Jackie rolled her eyes, turning to Steven. "Liar. I don't do it every day."_

" _What are you writing over there, anyway?" Steven asked, leaning forward to peer around her head. "Letters? You scrawl letters all over my baby's window like nothing?"_

" _First of all," Jackie said, leaning into his side. Steven's arm came up, wrapping about her shoulders. "I'm your baby, Steven. And maybe I do write letters, so what?"_

 _Steven did his half smile, where one corner of his mouth rose, and his eyes grew soft. Jackie felt her heart flutter under her breast. "What do you write?"_

" _Letters." Jackie said brattily. "So what?"_

" _What letters do you write?" Steven asked. The Camino began to slow, the light before them changing to red. Steven turned his face to her, staring hard at the side of her face. They rolled to a stop behind a station wagon. He nudged the tip of his nose down her soft cheek, pushing aside her hair and bringing his lips just under her ear. His other hand around her shoulders rubbed slow circles on her arm. "You know you want to tell me."_

 _Shivers raced up and down her spine and Jackie's eyes drifted closed, her lip disappearing between her teeth. "Maybe…"_

 _Steven's hot breath coasted over the shell of her ear. His soft lips brushed over her jaw. "Tell me, Jackie."_

" _I write letters, in a certain order." Jackie said softly, teasingly._

" _Your initials?" Steven asked._

 _Jackie's eyes snapped open. She watched the light ahead of them change, felt Steven's curls brush the side of her face. Her heart was pounding under her breasts. She shifted slightly away, upset. "The light's green."_

 _Steven pulled away, following the station wagon through the intersection. He drove them on, content and oblivious to Jackie's growing anger and resentment. She was happy he had quit asking. She was also pissed that he had given up so quickly. She had been writing her own initials, yes, but she had been writing her initials as she one day hoped to see them written. When she was married to Steven, and they were older, and as much in love as they were right at this second. When they were happy with everything she had ever desired._

 _Jackie's neighborhood was covered in a dense layer of snow, and Steven pulled the Camino into the drive, throwing the shifter in park. He leaned towards Jackie to kiss her, his hand rising to cup her jaw._

 _Jackie fielded his attempt, sliding into the passenger seat. Steven looked confused, his hand suspended in the air between them._

 _Sitting back in the drivers seat, he dropped his hand to his lap. "You mad?"_

" _No." Jackie said, belying the truth._

" _What are you mad about?" Steven continued. His eyebrows furrowed. "Did I say something?"_

 _Jackie took a deep breath, feeling like maybe she could cry. Emotions ran rampant through her and she tried to establish what she really felt. Anger? Yes, she was angry that he had stopped asking her what she was writing. But why? Why, because she would never have been able to tell him the truth. And she was infinitely saddened by that fact_. "I write our names, baby. I write how my name will look when I have yours."

 _Hot tears threatened to break ranks and course down her cheeks. She had made a promise; she wouldn't mention marriage as much. He had stopped smoking so much pot, and she had promised to not nag. So far he had held up his end of the bargain, and Jackie had tried as hard as she could to do the same. They were only just recovering from a fight about marriage, one she had caused two days prior after a trip to the mall when they had passed Halverson's Department Store, and Jackie had made an offhand comment about picking out wedding china._

" _No." Jackie said, less peevish._

" _Then what's wrong?" Steven asked. "Was it because I told you to quit writing on the window?"_

" _No." Jackie said a third time. "I'm sorry, I just… Don't worry about it."_

 _Steven's eyes narrowed. "Ok. What's up? You never miss a chance to berate me for something."_

 _Jackie felt the words sting her heart as if he had slapped her. New tears welled in her eyes. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, hoping against hope to hold back the tidal wave that threatened to sweep them away._

" _Jackie." Steven said, softer now. He reached out to her, his fingers touching her hair tentatively. Encouraged by her lack of response, he delved his fingers into her hair, touching her neck. "Jackie, baby, look at me."_

" _No." Jackie cried, bitterly angry and ashamed with herself._

" _OK, don't look at me." Steven said._

 _Affronted, Jackie's hands dropped from her face and she turned to him, her mouth open with disbelief._

 _Steven smiled, his fingers curling up her cheek. "Made ya look."_

 _Jackie turned away. "Steven, I'm tired."_

" _Hey, wait." Steven said, as she began to gather her belongings. "Baby, talk to me, what's the matter? You'll feel better once you tell me."_

" _You're just going to get mad at me." Jackie said, rearranging her hold on her purse. "And then we'll be in another fight, and Steven, I'm just- I'm just so tired of fighting."_

" _I don't want to fight either." His forefinger hooked her chin, turning her face towards him. "Tell me."_

" _It's so stupid." Jackie whispered, chin quivering._

 _Steven shrugged. "I do stupid stuff all the time. I once drank all of Red's beer, and passed out in his chair. That was the dressing-down of a lifetime. You know how much it sucks to mow and edge the lawn in the middle of summer while hung over?"_

 _Jackie knew he had meant it as a joke, to ease the tension, but she didn't reciprocate his laughter. She sniffled, her nose running. "I just got upset is all."_

" _Ok." Steven said, prompting her to continue._

" _I write initials on the window." Jackie said, looking now at the fading culprit of their current discussion. "My initials. And…"_

 _Steven didn't prompt her this time. He withdrew from her. "My initials?"_

" _Yes." Jackie said, taking a deep breath and looking at him. She shrugged her shoulders in an off-handed way. "I didn't think you noticed."_

" _Oh." Steven said. "Well, whatever. No big deal."_

" _Really?" Jackie asked. Steven had turned to face forward, his hands rising to the steering wheel. "You're not mad."_

" _I don't want to fight, Jackie."_

" _How are we fighting, we're just talking?" Jackie asked._

" _I just feel like we're going to start fighting." Steven said, his body as closed off from her as his tone._

" _See, you always do this to me, Steven! You tell me to talk and then get mad at me when I don't say what you want to hear…"_

The memory faded as Keith pulled into the church parking lot. Jackie sat straight in her seat, peering over the front seat to stare out the windshield. A line had formed at the main double doors, and Keith fell in line behind them. "I'll let you ladies off at the front before I go park."

"Where did you find this guy, Donna?" Jackie asked jovially, pushing away her memories. "Keith, do you have a brother?"

"Ha, ha, Jackie, very funny," Donna said. She turned in her seat and smiled at Jackie. "He's married, unfortunately for you."

"Damn!" Jackie swore. "There went my last chance at happiness."

"You'll find someone else to torture." Donna promised as Keith pulled up to the church doors.

Jackie and Donna exited the car, rushing into the church. The small lobby was packed, and Jackie tugged her coat open, cursing the body heat that had settled over them worse than the humidity in Florida.

"Who are all these people?" Jackie asked from the corner of her mouth. She pulled off her coat, fluffing her hair with her fingers. "I do _not_ remember there being this many people living in Point Place."

Donna gazed around, perplexed. "It's like everyone from high school. You know them."

Jackie scanned the faces, smiling around like the semi-famous newscaster she was. She led the way to the line leading into the chapel, taking a spot behind a large, older couple. Donna paused at her side, facing opposite, towards the doors so she could flag down Keith.

"What does Nancy do anyway?" Jackie asked as they inched closer.

Donna smoothed her bun with shaking fingers. "She's a teacher at Old Main. That's how Hyde met Heather."

"Ah." Jackie said, balancing back on the heel of her pump.

"Are we not allowed to mention her name?" Donna asked.

"What?" Jackie said, confused.

Donna smirked. "You got this look on your face when I said her name. And last night at the rehearsal dinner it was like someone had electrocuted you when you met her."

"Oh." Jackie took a step forward. "I didn't think I acted any different."

"Right," Donna followed. "And I'm the pope."

"Whatever." Jackie said. She took another step forward, taking the guest book pen from the lady in front of her. Signing her name with a flourish, Jackie waited for the usher to return down the aisle, handing the pen behind her to Donna and a freshly arrived Keith.

"Bride or groom?" The usher, a young, pimply-faced boy Jackie didn't recognize asked her.

"Groom." Jackie said, looping her arm through his. She felt like Elizabeth Taylor, or maybe Joan Collins, as the usher led her into the chapel. He stopped two pews behind where the Forman's would sit, directing her to her seat.

Jackie sat, shaking back her hair. She draped her coat and purse on the pew next to her, nearly jumping when the same usher returned, this time with Donna and Keith. They took seats beside Jackie, settling in. Soft music played from the organ. Voices murmured in hushed tones as the ushers dashed up and down the aisle, bringing everyone to their seat. Programs were scattered in the hymn racks, and Jackie grabbed one, studying it.

 _Eric Albert Forman and Nancy Elizabeth Thompson._

"Nancy Forman." Jackie whispered, flipping open the program. Her eyes scanned the order of events and she let out an involuntary groan. "We're having mass?"

"No." Donna scoffed. Her eyes rounded in fear and she grabbed a program in front of her, flipping it open. She groaned as she read what Jackie had also read. "I can't believe they would have mass with the ceremony. We're going to be here forever."

"Thank god we ate a big breakfast," Keith whispered, leaning around Donna so Jackie heard.

Jackie opened her mouth to agree, stopping when she looked up and made eye contact with Heather. She was alone this time, her arm hooked through the ushers. "Hey guys. Mind if I sit with you?"

"No!" Donna said, hurrying to cover Jackie's obvious displeasure. "Come sit over here by Keith."

Heather smiled. "Thanks."

Jackie's knees whacked Donna's, she spun so quickly away from Heather's body. Donna glared at her, turning her own knees towards Keith as Heather passed before her and Keith to her seat.

"I can't believe this weather!" Heather exclaimed as she sat. She shrugged out of her coat, water droplets clinging to her long, black lashes. "And I forgot my umbrella."

"Rain on your wedding day is bad luck." Jackie heard herself say. Donna turned to her with wide eyes, as did the couple seated across the aisle from them. Jackie fanned herself with the program. "It's a good thing Nancy isn't suspicious. Silly, stupid superstitions."

"Jackie, do you think you could keep your voice at a reasonable decibel throughout this?" Donna hissed, her cheeks reddening under her makeup.

"I'm sorry!" Jackie hissed back. "I didn't think I was speaking that loud!"

"Everything is so beautiful." Came Heather's voice. Jackie chewed her tongue, staring up at the altar blankly "When Steven and I get married, I want it to be in a church like this."

Jackie scoffed.

Steven was the least religious person she knew.

 _Good luck with that honey._

"We've already been to pick out our china." Heather continued, oblivious to Jackie's growing, palpable disdain. _It's been a freaking week,_ Jackie thought. "Donna, when you ordered for your registry, were they such a stickler for the _exact_ wedding date?"

"How so?" Donna asked, entwining her fingers with Keith's. His thumb swept over the modest emerald on her ring finger.

"Well, we haven't set our date yet. I want it to be in the spring. But Steven wants it to be in September. He's set on September." Heather smoothed her palms down her lap. "It's the one thing he's really been such a stickler on is the date. Even though I told him it's a Thursday and a lot of guests wouldn't be able to make it at that time." Heather's eyes studied the flowers at the altar. "Do you think Nancy would have the number for the florist? Probably Mrs. Thompson will. These flowers are gorgeous."

Jackie leaned around Donna. "September?" A crazed laugh bubbled past her lips. Her fingers rose to the hollow at her throat, pinching her skin. "When exactly in September, if you don't mind me asking?"

Heather smiled at her, dumb to the effect her words would have on Jackie. "September 24th."

It was like an ice pick had stabbed her right in the heart. She could feel it twisting in her chest, scraping against her ribs and knocking into the flat of her shoulder blades. Slowly, Jackie sat back in her seat, the vertebra of her spine pressing against the hard wooden pew painfully.

September 24th. Her birthday. She was livid. She simmered like a pot about to boil over, and it was all she could do to stay in her seat when the groomsmen began their processional down the aisle. At the sight of Steven, leading Mrs. Forman by the arm, smiling awkwardly at the gathered attendants, her toes ached, longing to make contact with his shins. He either purposefully avoided looking at her, or simply didn't see her, as he passed. Jackie felt her fingers curl, her nails scoring half-moons into her palms.

Jackie could barely remember standing, turning to watch Nancy and her father make their way down the aisle. She couldn't even distract herself with Nancy's dress, an off-white number with a high lace collar, such was the anger that roiled inside her body. She could only hear the gasp of adoration from Heather when she saw Nancy. The way she cooed as they passed by. The black of Steven's tux, the red rose pinned to his lapel right over his heart where she aimed her imaginary arrow.

 _Who does he think he is? Making_ my _birthday the day he's to marry that- that- slut!_

She found her gaze drifting up to Steven, her glare burning her eyelids, her anger heating her cheeks and prickling up and down her arms. He seemed to sense her, his blue eyes searching the crowd for the source of his discomfort.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jackie saw Heather give a small wave; saw Steven's returning smile. He turned forward with the rest of the groomsmen, Kelso, and Nancy's brother, Jimmy, as the priest began the opening prayer.

Time had never passed so slowly, Jackie thought. She spent the entirety of the ceremony glaring at the back of Steven's curls, praying for the first time in as long as she could remember that god would smite him where he sat, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash. Would serve him right. Maybe they'd roll his remains into a joint and sell it to some snot-faced freshman as weed. _It's no better than he deserves,_ Jackie thought.

"Jackie, you're practically growling out loud." Donna admonished as the exchange of nuptials began.

"I can't-"

"I know." Donna interrupted. She placed a comforting hand briefly over Jackie's. "But burn him with the fire of your eyes later, ok? You're being very obvious."

Jackie finally broke her stare. She had torn and crumpled the program in her lap. Swiping the torn pieces onto the floor, Jackie took several steadying breaths. "You're right."

Jackie knelt when she was supposed to kneel. She repeated the prayers after the priest and Gave Peace to the congregants gathered around her. At communion, she stood tall, shoulders loose, leading her row towards the altar. Every instinct in her body told her to look, to look at Steven as she passed by him, but she resisted. The wine burned her tongue, and the small wafer the priest set on her tongue was like paper, but she sang the loudest of those around her, and responded first Thanks Be To God as mass finally concluded. She was the perfect little Episcopalian her parents had raised.

On the outside.

"I'll meet you guys in the hall," Jackie said as soon as the other wedding guests began to mill about. "I need to get some air."

Tearing off down the aisle, Jackie smacked open the chapel door, her palm stinging. She was wobbly on her heels as she blindly made her way towards the ladies bathroom. She was nearly there when the bridal party offset her, making their exit from a small corridor off the side of the chapel. Nancy and Eric first, laughing and smiling, kissing one another with each step that would allow.

Plastering a smile on her face, Jackie came to an abrupt stop. "Congratulations! Nancy, you look gorgeous!"

Nancy accepted her hug. "Thank you, Jackie! I can't believe I'm married!" She fanned her bouquet before her face.

"Mrs. Forman," Eric crooned at her, bending at the waist to kiss her again.

"Come on you two, there will be enough of that on the honeymoon."

Steven.

Jackie bristled. Taking a small step towards him, she pressed a hand to her throat, hoping to keep the keen energy from her voice. "I need to speak to you."

"What, now?" Steven asked. His blue eyes darted up and around, _looking for Heather, I'm sure_ , before coming back to Jackie.

"Yes. _Now._ " Jackie said, grabbing him by the arm. She led them down the hall and into a wing off the main chapel. Rounding on Steven, she blew a lungful of hot air at him, jabbing him in the sternum. She jabbed him again, harder, for good measure, stepping close to his face. "Where do you get off?"

"Typically in my bed, but somehow I don't think that's what you meant."

"Don't be funny with me, you _know_ what I mean." Jackie crossed her arms.

"Jackie, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." Steven spread his hands beseechingly.

"September 24th?" Jackie asked. "Does that date ring a bell?"

Steven's eyes grew wide and then quickly impassive. He shrugged. "Should it?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, mister," Jackie's pointer finger stung as she prodded him again, offsetting his balance, "I know you know what date that is."

"Look," Steven began. He rubbed a hand down his face. He looked tired, his eyes rimmed red. "What do you want me to say?"

"How about why you chose that date for starters?" Jackie crossed her arms. "Apparently, according to your _fiancé_ , you are _adamant_ that that be the day you say I Do. _To her_."

Steven licked his lips, propping his right hand on his hip. "I wanted to talk to you about all of this last night."

"Yeah, well we're going to talk about it now." Jackie said. Her heart was thudding under her ribcage, beating a tattoo onto her skin. She felt itchy and caged, as if she could run and run for miles and never tire.

"Ok, well, can we put it on hold for a moment?" Steven asked, his eyes staring over her head as distant cheers rose. "I gotta go in for the reception, and a shit ton of pictures."

"What do you care?" Jackie asked scathingly. "You never liked weddings."

"I know." Steven said softly. "But it's not about me today. It's about Forman."

"Hyde! Man, come on!" Kelso called down the small wing. He motioned with his arms. "They're about to start taking pictures!"

"Jackie, I-" Steven started, taking a step away. A long curl escaped his gelled hair, flipping appealingly over his forehead. "Look, I'll explain everything, I just… I gotta go."

Jackie pivoted on her heels, watching him jog down the hall towards the wedding party. She heaved a great sigh, her head falling back on her shoulders.

In the dim corridor, she felt completely alone. Alone and full of so much hurt and resentment. Steven Hyde could go to hell, she decided, following his path. With each step, she raised her chin higher. She refused to let him batter her down again. If he wanted to live his life in a fucked up fantasy world, well, that wasn't _her_ problem. That was Heather's now. Jackie Burkhart had wasted enough of her life on Steven Hyde.

"No more." Jackie whispered, meeting up with the other congregants milling towards the parking lot. She found Donna in the lobby, and together, they dashed out to the Jeep, climbing in and out of the rain. She was uncharacteristically quiet as they rode over to the Holiday Hotel for the reception, her eyes focused on the water droplets that ran in rivulets down the clean, smudge-free glass.


End file.
